


Untold Stories

by islndgurl777



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-04-23 03:31:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19142686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islndgurl777/pseuds/islndgurl777
Summary: A place for any RNM one-shots I write, should I write more...Ch 3- Canon Divergence 1x09- Alex, Maria, Isobel, and Michael go to TexasCh 2- Post 1x10 Isobel time travels from the future to get help from Alex and Kyle.Ch 1- From RoswellPrompts tumblr: Anonymous asked: I loved OG Alex/Isabel so some of our Alex and Isobel bonding please!





	1. Alex and Isobel bonding

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the quote: “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” Maya Angelou
> 
> A few weeks ago I got antsy and picked a prompt from the RoswellPrompts tumblr. I don't know if anyone saw it there, so I thought I'd post it here, then I decided I'd just keep an open fic if I wanted to fulfill any more prompts.

Isobel has felt his scrutiny from across the patio all night and it’s making her squirm. Not literally, of course. No way in hell would she be caught showing any form of weakness to Alex Manes, but his dark, steady stare is making her uncomfortable enough that her skin is starting to itch; it’s taking all of her willpower not to scratch. **  
**

They’re all at Max’s house, at their weekly “Save the Aliens” meeting, though this one is more like a friendly hangout than an actual planning session, since they’ve reached another dead end looking for other Project Shepherd sites. They’ve all been outside chatting by the firepit all night, laughing and talking. Max and Michael are constantly checking in on her, keeping an eye on her and giving her shoulders or arms light squeezes every few minutes. She thinks that’s why Alex is keeping a close eye on her as well. He probably wouldn’t know why, but he can tell something’s up and his curiosity has manifested itself in an intense stare.

Finally, she meets his eyes and stares back, lifting an eyebrow in a mixture of a challenge and an exasperated question:  _why?_

Conversations continue around them; Kyle and Liz playfully arguing over the best movie to introduce Rosa to on their next movie night, Rosa rolling her eyes and smirking at their antics; Max and Maria teaming up to make fun of Michael’s previous drunken shenanigans while Michael scowls and tries to defend himself to both of them.

No one is paying attention when Alex lifts an eyebrow in response to her silent question and raises his hand to his head, pointer and middle finger tapping on his temple.

Her mouth opens slightly in shock and she cocks her head at him. She’d promised almost since the beginning that she wouldn’t enter any of their heads again unless it was an emergency. This does not qualify, though he taps his temple again, adamant.

She glances around to make sure everyone else is still occupied with their conversations before she enters his mindscape.

It’s dark outside, but in his head it’s more like twilight. Alex stands in front of her, hands in his pockets, staring up at the sky. “Is it always like this?” he asks, turning just his face towards hers.

She looks up at the sky briefly, then back at him. There’s a haze surrounding them, so the sky looks like a smudge of yellow-purple-red-blue above them. “I don’t usually let them know I’m in their mind, but yes. This is what it’s usually like.”

The sky brightens for a moment then goes back to the same sunset colors. He turns to face her fully, hands still in his pockets, and says, “Are you okay?”

The concern in Alex’s voice startles her. She doesn’t think she’s ever had a one-on-one conversation with him in the twenty years she’s known him, and she’s done nothing to warrant his friendly concern in the months since he’s been brought into their secret.

Isobel must be projecting, or she’s been silent too long, because he shrugs and says, “All night Max and M– Guerin have been worried about you, hovering around you. I wondered why.”

She eyes him critically, watching the way he stands straight, proud, but his hands are fisted in his pockets, clenching and unclenching rhythmically; the colors in the sky pulse to the beat. It’s harder to lose nervous ticks in your subconscious. His eyes are easier to read in here too. Instead of the cold distance he affects on the outside, there’s a warm compassion that takes her breath away. This is the Alex Michael fell in love with all those years ago. This is the Alex for which her brother has been desperately holding on to hope with both hands.

She knows without a doubt that anyone Michael lets in must be worthy of that love and trust, so she says, “It’s my wedding anniversary. They’re worried I’m going to dissociate or black out or something.”

The sky darkens a little, though he doesn’t seem to notice. His eyebrows come together as he frowns and says, “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” He pulls his hands out of his pockets and steps closer. His body sways closer to hers, but she can see him holding himself back from reaching for her.

She smiles a little, wondering–not for the first time, thanks to Noah–how someone can be such a different person on the outside than they are inside. Wondering why he would hide this Alex behind the impassive military man he’s shown himself to be since they’ve all come together like this. “Are you?”

The sky pulses again. He jerks back a little, hands resting on his thighs, but his knuckles are white. “What?” he says, brow wrinkled in confusion.

She steps closer, eyes catching his. “I’m in your head, Alex. It can’t be a surprise to you that it’s harder for you to hide in here.”

He swallows hard and shakes his head. “What do you mean?”

She looks up at the sky again and shrugs. “There’s a well of emotion you hold in you that seeps into every part of your subconscious. It’s like you’re keeping everything bottled up inside rather than releasing it and it’s affecting the landscape of your mind.”

The sky brightens a little and he groans, lips twitching. “You sound like my therapist, though you’re definitely more eloquent than he is.”

She nods graciously and says, “Thank you.”

They stare each other down until he sighs and says, “No, I’m not okay. I haven’t been okay in a long time. But I’m trying. I want…” He shifts on his feet and looks down. The sky pulses several times before he swallows and looks back up at her. “I don’t want to live my life based on my fears anymore. I want to live my life how I want to live it, without constantly looking over my shoulder. It’s just hard to get to that point.”

She nods and says, “I’m not okay either. But I’ve got my family, and I’ve got…friends.” She can’t keep the wonder out of her voice, or the tears that spring to her eyes when she meets his gaze. She shrugs and gives a half-smile. “I’ve got more people than just Max and Michael I can trust with my life, and despite all the shit I went through, I feel safer now than I ever have on this planet. That counts for something, don’t you think?” She meets his eyes without blinking, willing him to understand she’s not just talking about herself.

The sky brightens a little more, and he looks up at it and back at her. “I think it counts for a lot.”

She looks into his eyes, sees his compassion and resilience and goodness, and says, “You know, you don’t have to be 100% alright to start reaching for what you want. Some guys really enjoy partially-baked cookies. Michael, for example.”

Alex bursts out laughing and the sky abruptly brightens to a midday shine. “Did you really just use a Buffy metaphor on me?”

She smirks, unreasonably delighted to have made him laugh. “Well, if the fantasy genre boot fits…”

He shakes his head and steps forward, reaching for her hands. “Isobel, you’re a good sister, and a surprisingly good friend, considering we don’t know each other that well yet.” The sky is still bright around them as he squeezes her hands. “Thank you for the input, but Michael and I…” He shakes his head. “I don’t think either of us is cookies yet, and I don’t think it would be wise of us to be together if we’re…unfinished.”

She nods. “I understand. But can I say one last thing?” He nods so she takes a breath and says, “I thought I was cookies when I was with Noah. I was so sure of it. But I’m still just…raw cookie dough. I was sure I was done baking but I wasn’t. Isn’t it possible you think you’re not ready but you are?” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, nodding once to acknowledge her point. She squeezes his hands and says, “Just consider it, okay?”

She lets go of his hands and they are back on the outside. She glances around and nobody has noticed their absences.

Kyle and Liz look ready to murder each other as they’re yelling, “Inception!” and “Easy A!”, respectively. Finally, Rosa shouts, “Shaun of the Dead!” over the two of them and slams her hand on the table, ending the argument. Max, Michael, and Maria stop in the middle of their squabble and all look over at them with raised brows. Max looks a bit bemused, while Maria sports a half smile. Michael is grinning widely and says, “I’m with the elder Ortecho on this one.”

Rosa and Liz both turn to Kyle, smug grins gracing their faces until they realize… “Wait, who is the elder Ortecho now?” Liz asks, and the sisters whip their heads around to stare down Michael, whose grin has gotten even wider.

Isobel’s eyes trail from Michael over to Alex, who is looking at her brother with a small smile, and now that she’s been in his head, she can see the warmth shining out of his eyes. Alex’s eyes flicker to hers and he shrugs as if to say,  _what can you do?_

She rolls her eyes and nods in agreement, lifting her drink in a silent toast across the patio.


	2. Isobel time travels from the future back to 2018

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 1x10 Isobel time travels from the future to get help from Alex and Kyle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No prompt; I woke up out of a dead sleep this morning with an image of Isobel in my brain and I decided to write a scene around it. Unbeta'd.

Alex stares at the computer screen for an indeterminate amount of time after he gets off the phone with Liz. Her explanation had been rushed: Noah was the fourth alien; he’d drugged Max, Michael, and Maria; he’d tried to kill Max and her; she’d hit him with a dose of her serum and they were putting him in a pod until they could figure out what to do with him. She’d hung up before he could ask if everyone was okay, but he assumes she’d tell him if they weren’t. The list of the evening’s events keeps running through his mind, and it keeps stalling around “Noah drugged Michael”.

 

He startles out of the loop when bright light flashes outside his window, a flare-up of dust hitting the wall of the cabin after it. His eyebrows knit together; there hadn’t been a storm on the forecast for a few more days. The unexpected change makes him feel uneasy. He stands and walks over to the window, peering out into the night, but he doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary. In fact, there’s no storm at all. It’s a clear night.

 

There’s a hard knock on his front door and he turns toward it, pulling his weapon as he goes. He makes his way over to the door slowly, and the knock comes again. When he’s situated by the door, he peeks out the window through a small gap in his curtain, but all he can see is a dark mass and a flash of blonde hair. There’s another knock and this time, his visitor yells, “Come on, Alex! Open up! I know you’re in there!”

 

He lowers his gun, resting it against his thigh, and says through the door, “Isobel?”

 

“Yes and no, but I don’t want to yell my explanation through a door, so can you please let me in? I need your help.”

 

He rests his free hand on the lock, hesitating because something about this doesn’t feel right, and his instincts have literally meant the difference between life and death before. Then he hears her groan lightly through the door. He rolls his eyes and swears at his own stupidity, then unlocks and opens the door.

 

Isobel is slightly bent over at the waist, one hand on her side, the other gripping his doorframe. Blood drips down the arm she’s leaning on, a steady stream from her hand down to the sleeve she has rolled up to her shoulder. His eyes widen and shift to the hand at her side, which is also covered in blood. She’s gripping it tightly over a wound that’s slowly bleeding out over her fingers. Finally he looks up at her face to find her smiling at him. “Thanks,” she breathes out. She lets go of the door frame to place her hand on his shoulder, leaning most of her weight on him. “Don’t call my brothers,” she says, and then her eyes flutter closed and she leans into him as she passes out.

 

He swears as his arms come up to catch her around the waist. He struggles to balance, pain flaring in his leg from wearing the prosthetic all day and then having a tall woman abruptly pass out in his arms. When he finally finds his balance, it’s slow going to shift her over to the couch, and he has to grit his teeth and breathe deep to prevent himself from dropping her.

 

He lays her out as gently as he can and sits on the coffee table next to her. He sets the gun next to his hip, just in case, but he’s not sure he’ll even need it. “Isobel?” he says quietly, resting his hand on her cheek. “Isobel, you need to wake up.” He moves two fingers to her neck, checking her pulse; it’s worryingly thready and her skin is a little cool and clammy. “Isobel!” he says loudly, and she jerks, her eyes flying open.

 

“ ‘lex?” she says, blinking slowly. She looks...odd, and he can’t tell if it’s because she’s bleeding out on his couch or if there’s something else going on with her.

 

He nods and leans closer. “You said not to call your brothers, but you’re bleeding a lot. I can do a field dressing, but I’m not sure that’s going to be good enough.” His eyes flicker down to the wound in her side. “What happened?”

 

She blinks again and shakes her head a little. “Call Kyle,” she says after a minute of deliberation. “No one else.”

 

He licks his lips and shakes his head, cupping her cheek again. “Isobel. Max can heal you. Let me--”

 

“No!” She pushes his hand away from her face and shakes her head vehemently, then closes her eyes with a groan. “I’m not his Isobel, he might not heal me. I need Kyle. And  _ you _ .”

 

And there’s some more odd. “What does that mean, you’re not his Isobel?” he asks, even as he pulls out his phone and starts scrolling for Kyle’s name.

 

“I’m not this Isobel,” she says again, pressing harder on the wound in her side and wincing. “I’m not Isobel from 2018. That Isobel is already here.”

 

He tilts his head, eyes widening as his finger hovers over the call button. “What?”

 

She rolls her eyes and glares at him, again wincing afterwards. “I forgot how dumb you can be sometimes. Call Kyle. Get me some acetone, maybe some cookies. Explanations can wait until he’s here so I only have to say all of it once.”

 

He stands up, palming his gun in his free hand while he hits the call button next to Kyle’s name. Isobel rolls her eyes at him and places her arm over the top half of her face. Kyle answers after a few rings, and agrees to come out to the cabin with his med bag, no questions asked.

 

As he’s talking, he looks Isobel over with a more careful eye. She does look older than he remembers, and there are multicolored streaks in her shoulder-length hair. He also notes several old scars--long and thin, from some kind of blade-- and a stark black tattoo on her bicep, made up of some of the symbols he’s seen on the alien glass. She’s also wearing all black, a look he’s certain he’s never seen her in before.

 

“You didn’t tell him I’m here,” Isobel says quietly, arm still covering her eyes while the other continues to press down on the wound in her side.

 

He shrugs and says, “It didn’t seem like the type of thing to say over the phone. ‘Yeah, can you come to my house because Isobel time travelled here from the future and she’s injured and she needs our help.’” He lets out a shaky breath (because it sounds insane!) and watches her grin slyly up at the ceiling.

 

“Yeah, I guess that would be a bit of a giveaway if your dad were still monitoring your cell somehow. Good call,” she says.

 

“How did you know--” he starts, putting the gun down again, because as crazy as it sounds, he knows somehow she’s not a threat to him.

 

“I know everything,” she says, moving her arm to look at him with solemn eyes, voice low and ominous.

 

He narrows his eyes at her, startled into silence.

 

She breaks into a small smile again and says, “Kidding. Now, can you please go get me some acetone and cookies?” He takes a moment before he nods and steps toward the bathroom. She calls after him, “And not the crappy ‘guest’ cookies that you make Kyle eat when he comes over. I want the good stuff. I want the Oreos you keep hidden in the pan cupboard.”

 

His stride falters as she says it, but he only shakes his head and continues on to the bathroom.

 

/

 

He’s known Isobel on a superficial level since they were about eight, when she and Max started at their elementary school mid-year after they were adopted by the Evanses. They’ve never bonded on a deeper level than an occasional passing nod as they stayed out of each other’s way in the hallways at school. He doesn’t think he’s exchanged more than a few words with her since he’s been back from Iraq: her, thanking him for his service with a fake smile and a handshake at his welcome home party; him, accepting her thanks with a nod and a bitter twist of his lips.

 

He knows from Michael she can be kind, but he’s only ever really seen the popular bitch or fawning socialite facades. Her cold insincerity is what he knows best about her, and she isn’t displaying any of those characteristics right now.

 

He doesn’t know what to make of the friendly, grinning woman currently sitting up on his couch, flirting with Kyle Valenti as he examines her wounds. It’s a light-hearted, teasing flirt, like she’s not aiming for anything from him except to make him blush, and she’s definitely succeeding there. It’s nothing like what he’d come to expect from Isobel Evans over the years. It’s her, but it’s not her.

 

“Who  _ are _ you?” he interrupts, sitting down on the coffee table next to Kyle, watching as he finishes sewing up the slice in Isobel’s side.

 

Isobel’s flirty smile fades a little as her eyes flicker over to him. “You know who I am,” she says, rolling her eyes.

 

Kyle finishes his last stitch and says, “It is pretty standard procedure to check, though. Make sure you’re not a shape-shifter or something.” He carefully cleans around the stitches and looks up at her as he pulls out a bandage to put over it. “You have proof you’re more Doctor Who than Skrull?”

 

“Well, I don’t exactly have a TARDIS,” she says as she watches him cover her wound. When he’s done, she looks up, eyes shifting between them. Finally she takes a breath and nods. “I already told Alex about his secret cookie stash,” she points out, and that had been impressive, but hardly proof. She continues, “Kyle, you always keep an unopened bottle of margarita mix in your cupboard as a good luck charm; a holdover from med school.” Kyle looks over at him and shrugs, nodding that she’s correct, but as before, it’s not quite definitive enough for them.

 

“Anything else you can offer as proof?” Alex asks.

 

She looks around the room, eyes catching on his books and picture frames, and then she looks down at the table they’re sitting on. “Would knowledge about the secret bunker do it?”

 

Kyle’s eyebrows go up and he looks over at Alex, who narrows his eyes at her. “Maybe, but we don’t know who already knew about it. Anything else?”

 

She sighs and clenches her hands into fists on her knees, thinking. Then, she looks up at Kyle and her grin is wicked. “November 16, 2013.” Kyle’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. Isobel pays him no mind and continues, “The location? Detroit, Michigan. More specifically, a certain bar on--”

 

“Okay!” Kyle says, leaping forward to cover her mouth with his hand. “I’m convinced!”

 

Isobel licks his hand and he pulls it away in disgust, wiping it on his pants as she shifts her attention to Alex. They stare at each other for a long moment before she says quietly, “Five letters.”

 

He sucks in a breath and shakes his head. He hadn’t told anyone about those letters, ever. “I believe you,” he finally croaks out, eyes flickering between hers. He can’t think of any circumstances under which he’d tell just anyone that, but he must have told her. Well, he must tell her, sometime in the future.

 

Isobel nods and gives him an apologetic smile. Then she turns back to Kyle and says, “What’s the date? I didn’t have time to double check my math before I left.” She gestures to her side in explanation. “I was aiming for just before I got out of the pod, but I don’t think I made it.”

 

Kyle shakes his head. “No, you missed it. Tonight was the gala at the UFO Emporium. Liz called to tell me what happened with Noah on my way over here.”

 

Isobel lets out a shaky breath, and it’s the most vulnerable Alex has seen her since she got here, and she literally passed out in his arms from blood loss earlier. “What’s going on?” he asks. “When are you from? Why are you here?”

 

“Well,” she says. “Everyone is dead, so I’m here to stop that happening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were wondering, yes this was very much a throwback to the OG episode where Max time travels to get Liz's help to save the future. Still one of my favorite episodes, and to this day I can't listen to "I Shall Believe" without getting a little sad...


	3. Canon Divergence 1x09- Alex, Maria, Isobel, and Michael go to Texas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt on discord: canon divergence - so what if our leads didn’t have to be in 1x09, Songs About Texas? It seems plausible that Alex would go with Maria looking for a faith healer, and Michael could be doing the search Max did and drag Isobel along instead. How does it go down with these very different dynamics involved? Give me solid emotional logic—I don’t think Malex fall right back together, but Michael probably either doesn’t sleep with Maria or flirts so hard with her to make Alex jealous that it’s offputting to everyone including her…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by realbisexualalien. Thanks to larenoz for looking this one over.
> 
> This AU assumes Isobel got out of the pod at least a week earlier than canon, and because I didn't want all of the Jenna/Alex/Kyle scenes from 1x9 to be missed either, figure those happened a week early too. "Sometimes the world ends with a whimper," and the scene at the Pony does happen as in canon though : (

Despite now knowing aliens exist and that they have the power to heal bullet wounds (among other things), Alex is not a believer of miracles. He doesn’t think terminal cancer patients mysteriously get well overnight, or that debilitating physical maladies can up and vanish. Miracles are just not a thing that exist in his world, not since he was a little kid, but they do exist in Maria’s. Which is why they’re here, in the middle of nowhere, Texas, hoping to see if a faith healer will be able to help Mimi.

 

“I know you don’t believe in this kind of stuff, so thanks for coming with me,” Maria says, putting the truck into park.

 

He smiles over at her and shakes his head. “You don’t have to thank me, and what I believe doesn’t matter. It’s about what you believe.”

 

She smiles at him and they exit the car, and they start heading for the tents, only to stop at the main trail when they run into Michael and Isobel. Alex sucks in a breath; he hadn’t been expecting to run into him so soon after last night, especially since their conversation had veered so far from what he’d anticipated when he’d been rehearsing what to say to him.

 

Kyle had told him it was just a conversation, not a war, but every conversation he has with Michael is a struggle, if only because they have always been terrible at communicating with each other. He’d needed more time to figure out what he was going to say, so he’d ended up lashing out at Michael about their breakup, only to regret it immediately after he’d left. He’d figured he’d have a little more time to figure out what he was going to say and how he was going to apologize while he was on the road trip with Maria, and now that plan’s gone to shit too.

 

He and Maria tentatively step closer to Michael and Isobel. Michael doesn’t spare him a glance, and Alex’s breath catches when he focuses his flirtatious smile on Maria and says, “You following me?”

 

Maria shoots Alex a curious glance before she scoffs at Michael and says, “No, I try to stay upwind of you, Guerin.”

 

Isobel rolls her eyes and says, “I’m going to get a lemonade before I have to witness any more of this.” She gestures between the two of them and starts to walk away.

 

Alex clears his throat and says, “I’ll join you.” He nods goodbye to Maria and can’t help but take one last look at Michael as he turns away. Guerin’s still grinning at Maria, and Maria is smiling at rolling her eyes at him.

 

Fuck.

 

/

 

The lemonade is shit, but it gives him something to focus on besides the continued absence of Michael and Maria.

 

“You really think she’ll be able to fix that?” Isobel asks him, nodding down to his leg. She takes a sip of her lemonade and puckers her lips. “Gross.”

 

Alex laughs and shakes his head. “No, I’ve actually kind of grown used to it.” He kicks his heel out as if to display his leg to her. “I’m actually kind of hoping for a bionic one at some point.”

 

Her eyebrows go up and her lips twitch, but she doesn’t quite smile. “Why are you here then?”

 

Alex shrugs and says, “Maria’s mom isn’t doing well, and she’s tried nearly everything there is out there. I think this is one of her last resorts. I’m just here for support.”

 

Isobel hums and her eyes narrow on him a bit. “Just here for support?” she questions, and when he nods she hums again and tilts her head to the side. “You sure you’re not here to ask about healing some other injuries?” she asks, and she juts her chin out, eyes flickering over his shoulder.

 

He turns to see Michael and Maria walking up, laughing, and his eyes drop to Michael’s hand, gnarled and misshapen at his side. He stiffens and turns back to Isobel. Why would she have asked him that...unless Michael had told her what happened. How long had she known? He looks into her eyes and sees a challenge there, and some curiosity. She wants to know if he’ll own up to his past with Michael, his part in his injury. She’s daring him to admit to it.

 

He exhales slowly and shrugs, tilting his head to the side. “Isn’t that why you’re here?” It’s not an admission, but he’s also not denying Michael might be a driving force for some of the decisions he’s made in his life.

 

Isobel narrows her eyes on him, seemingly not satisfied with his answer, and says, “Something like that.”

 

/

 

Alex is fully ready to believe all of this is a hoax, but then Arizona’s hand turns red when she heals the man in front of them. It’s not even her glowing hand that does it, it’s Michael and Isobel’s reactions. They straighten up, their shoulders turning stiff, and exchange a meaningful look.

 

Maybe they’re not here to heal Michael’s hand. Maybe they’re here to find another alien, and the glowing hand is a sign, something they recognize because it happens to them when they use their powers.

 

If that’s the case, this trip might turn out more interesting than Alex was anticipating.

 

/

 

They exit the tent and Maria pulls Alex away from the stream of people who are heading up the hill to line up for private consultations. “That was impressive,” she says, unable to contain the excitement in her voice.

 

Alex nods and says, much more sedately, “Yes, it was.”

 

Her enthusiasm lessens a little. “You don’t think she’s legit?”

 

He shakes his head. “Not necessarily. It doesn’t hurt to try the consultation and see what she says,” he tells her, putting his hands in his pockets and shrugging.

 

Maria’s smile grows again and she nods. “Okay. I’ll go in with Guerin, see what she says about his hand, and--” Her smile drops and she narrows her eyes at him, concerned. “What? What was that?”

 

Alex, who had inhaled sharply at the mention of Michael’s hand again, shakes his head and lets out a slow breath. “What do you mean?”

 

She narrows her eyes on him and shakes her head. “You had this...sick feeling when I mentioned Guerin’s hand.”

 

He rolls his eyes and gives her a half smile. “Come on, Maria, don’t do the psychic thing on me.”

 

She grips his arms in her hands and pulls him a little closer. “No, you--you did! It was all regret and terror and--and--and hurt, like that night you…” She swallows and narrows her eyes on his, finishing softly with, “Like that night you broke up with Museum Guy.”

 

He sucks in a breath and looks away from her, eyes drawn over her shoulder to Michael and Isobel talking several feet away from them. He looks back at Maria and shrugs. “I--” he shrugs again and sighs heavily.

 

“Guerin?  _ Guerin _ is Museum Guy?” she gasps out, looking over her shoulder at him then looking back at Alex. “Seriously?”

 

“Maria,” he says, and he hates that it sounds like he’s pleading with her. 

 

Her mouth, which had been slightly parted in shock, snaps shut and she shakes her head. “He’s been flirting with me all day, right in front of you! That slimy--” She turns around, fire in her eyes, fists clenched at her side.

 

Alex grabs her arm and says, “Wait,” pulling her around to face him again and shaking his head. “He’s…” He sighs and licks his lips, eyes shifting around her face, but never meeting her own. “I said some...regretful things to him last night,” he says, lips twisting. That was an understatement. “I was lashing out, and I hurt him, and now he’s doing the same thing to me. It’s pretty par for the course for us.” He lets go of her arm and rubs his hands over his face. He looks back up at her and says, “I’m sorry you got caught up in the middle of it.”

 

She shakes her head, eyebrows coming together in confusion. “But. You weren’t there last night when he was flirting with me,” she says. “Were you? I thought you left right after he showed up.”

 

He freezes, heart stuttering in his chest. “He was flirting with you last night after I left?” She nods in confirmation and he lets out a strangled, wet groan. “Well,” he says, and he has to clear his throat. “I thought it was a little out of character for him to flirt with you just to make me mad. He’s not usually that cruel to innocent bystanders.” He fights back a grimace and tries to smile at her. “He must really like you. Flirting with you in front of me was just a side benefit.”

 

The fire returns to her eyes and she says, “No. Absolutely not.” She turns again and he grabs her again. She shrugs off his hand and shakes her head. “Alex, he can’t just treat you that way. He can’t just treat  _ me _ that way!”

 

He nods and says, “I agree, but now is not the time. You need to get in line to talk to Arizona. It’s the whole reason we came.” He nods to the dwindling line and sees Michael has already joined, a few places from the end. 

 

Maria, fuming, looks over at the line and back to him. “Fine, but I’m not going in with him. Will you come with me?”

 

He smiles softly at her and holds his hand out for her to take. “Of course.”

 

/

 

Arizona is a fraud, not that Alex is totally shocked by this revelation, but that combined with what she’s just learned about Michael makes Maria want to find a bar.

 

The two of them are two shots and a glass of beer in when Isobel and Michael wander in. Maria takes one look at Michael, heading over to their table with that flirtatious smile on his face, and snarls, “Hell no.” She takes another shot and jumps up to interrupt the band and start an impromptu karaoke night.

 

Michael’s smile drops and he stops walking when he sees Maria walking away from him, but Isobel pushes him on and they join Alex at his table. Michael avoids eye contact, looking like a kicked puppy, and Isobel says, “What was that about?”

 

Alex swallows the lump in his throat and shrugs. “No idea,” he says, and Isobel raises an eyebrow at him. He stares her down and her eyes narrow on him, going distant for a second before Michael interrupts.

 

“Is!” he says, tone angry, slamming his hand down on the table in front of her. 

 

She snaps out of it and her gaze slides over to him. “What?”

 

“Don’t,” he says, shaking his head. He licks his lips and his eyes dart to Alex and away again just as quickly. “Maybe coming here was a bad idea,” he says to her.

 

Isobel shrugs and picks up the drinks menu from the table in front of her. “I think coming here was a great idea, personally. You can learn so much about a person when they’re drunk.”

 

Alex snorts, earning him a surprised look from Michael and a smirk from Isobel. “You can also end up doing something you’ll regret when you’re drunk,” he says with a shrug.

 

Isobel’s eyes narrow on him. “But you can also end up saying things you’re too afraid to say when you’re sober.”

 

Alex’s breath catches in his throat and he maintains eye contact with her. “A drunk mind speaks a sober heart?” he asks, skeptical.

 

She shrugs and her eyes go back down to the menu. “Better than regretting not saying it at all,” she murmurs so quietly he almost doesn’t hear it.

 

/

 

Alex doesn’t want his drunk mind to speak for him; his sober mind has enough trouble with articulating himself to Michael already, so he and Maria get a hotel room and pass out after a day fraught with emotional revelations and disappointments.

 

With all the thoughts about Michael and aliens and the serial killer and Michael running in a constant loop in his head, it’s no wonder it takes him hours to fall asleep.

 

It is, however, very surprising that he wakes up after Maria the next morning. He’s usually up with the dawn, or at the very least prone to waking up when other people are up and moving around in the same room as him.

 

But it looks like Maria’s already up, and he doesn’t hear her in the bathroom, so she must have left for breakfast already too. He takes a few minutes to stretch and massage his leg, then put the prosthetic back on before he stands and reaches for his phone.

 

There’s a text from Maria from an hour and a half ago: Talked to Isobel last night, and she agreed. You and Michael need some time to talk, so I’m heading home with her, and you can ride with Michael. Don’t hate me? xoxoxo

 

Alex groans and runs a hand down his face, deciding not to text Maria back until he knows the outcome of her scheming. He gathers up the rest of his things and heads out, dropping the key at the front desk and swinging by the local coffee shop for drinks and breakfast to go.

 

Michael’s leaning against his truck, scowling down at his phone when Alex walks up. He straightens and puts it in his pocket when he sees Alex coming, and a mask of indifference drops over his face.

 

“Bagel?” Alex offers tentatively, holding out the bag.

 

Michael’s lips twist, but he nods and reaches for the bag, pulling one of the bagels out and taking a large bite with a grunt of thanks.

 

Alex smothers a laugh and leans up against the truck next to him, holding out his coffee next. “So, Isobel knows.” He tries to keep his tone as even as possible, not wanting to sound as accusing as he had that last morning with him a few months ago.

 

Michael freezes and shifts ever so slightly further away from him. Then he nods as he continues to chew, finally swallowing and rasping out, “Maria too.” He takes a drink of his coffee and watches Alex out of the corner of his eye.

 

Alex nods and takes a small sip from his own coffee. “She kind of figured it out. Sorry for outing you to her.”

 

Michael freezes again, for only a moment, before he shrugs and takes another large bite of his bagel.

 

They both finish their food in silence, and when he’s done Michael inclines his head to the truck and says, “You ready?”

 

Alex shifts to face him head on and just looks him over for a long moment. Michael fidgets under the weight of his gaze, not meeting his eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. Finally, Alex lets out a whoosh of air and nods once. “Yeah,” he says softly. Then, more firmly, “I’m tired of not saying what I want to say, or just…” He shrugs helplessly, and shakes his head. “Or just saying it wrong, like I did the other night.”

 

Michael’s eyes snap to his and he says, voice rough, “Okay, let’s get going then.”

 

Alex nods and when they brush past each other to get to their sides of the car he has to suppress a little shiver.

 

They’re silent as they buckle in and while Michael backs out of his spot and heads for the highway, but he glances over at Alex once they hit the open road and says, “What is it you want to say, Alex?”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated!
> 
> Find me on tumblr at islndgurl777.


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